


After All

by Beachmomma77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Divorce, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Memories, Mild Smut, Past Relationship(s), Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Romance, Some Humor, Starting Over, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-18 01:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beachmomma77/pseuds/Beachmomma77
Summary: Their divorce was the best thing that happened them - at least, that's what Draco and Hermione had been telling their friends over the years. When their children plead for a little civility for Scorpius' wedding, will this passionate ex-couple be able to comply?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter! 
> 
>  
> 
> This is a WIP inspired by Safewordisdevilssnare's Plunny.

**7:00am**

 

The Malfoy Manor was abuzz quite early that clear and sunny Saturday morning. Draco woke up to the sound of house elves Apparating in and out, laughter ringing, and children - HIS children - running around at such an ungodly hour! He groaned, as he set his watch aside. Today was a big day at the Manor. Today was the day his Scorpius married Lily Potter. Yes, it was going to be a long and busy day.  

 

He rose from bed, threw on his robe and walked to the balcony of the Master's suite in the East Wing overlooking the usually dull and lifeless garden. It's been years since the garden had been used for a party - a good fifteen years in fact. Even during the final years of his mother's life, she opted to hold parties in the Manor's ballroom instead of the garden, which she used to love and tend to. The garden, to her, was a place full of happy memories, and they all left when Hermione left the Manor. 

 

Hermione. Draco’s thoughts drifted back to his ex-wife and mother of his two children. Their marriage came as a surprise to everyone… perhaps even themselves. 

 

***

 

_ The last time he saw her was in Hogwarts,  during a near-altercation with Potter during Sixth Year. Hermione had always been the bane of his existence with her righteous ways, and know-it-all attitude. Draco loathed not only her personality, but her brilliance and her blood status, too. She was a Muggle-born - a Mudblood, and she was supposed to be lower than him; however, that didn't stop her from excelling in everything she set herself to do, including topping him in every subject and telling on him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Potter followed him to the seventh floor, while he made his way to the Room of Hidden Things to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. He nearly dueled with Potter for him to be left alone, when the Muggle-born witch jumped in to intervene. She led Harry away, threatening to report him for harassment even. Draco never did understand what made her act that way, and part of him wished it wouldn't be the last he'd seen of the feisty Gryffindor. _

 

_ He saw her again in one of the raids the Death Eaters led a year later. Draco joined his family in supporting Voldemort in his quest to conquer the Wizarding world, and rose among the ranks of the Dark Lord's army. He was asked to lead smaller raids, but today he played  second fiddle to his uncle in a major operation that involved taking down one of the Order's bigger operating sites. His group outnumbered hers, and they had instructions from Voldemort himself to kill all the Order Members on the spot. Draco saw the Muggle-born witch at the landing leading to the second floor, nursing a severely injured leg. When she  spotted him, she immediately struggled to move away. _

 

_ “Kill all the Members of the Order,” Rodolphus Lestrange yelled from where he stood at the entrance of the hall, where he also took his turn torturing and hexing Order Members. “Leave no one alive!” _

 

_ Draco fixed his eyes on the girl, who winced in pain, but managed to muster as much courage as her current state allowed. Slowly, he watched as her eyes met his.  _

 

_ “What are you waiting for, Malfoy?” she said hoarsely, unmindful of  the tears that traitorously streamed down her blood-stained cheeks. “Kill me now.” _

 

_ He flinched. He wasn't exactly expecting the fiery Gryffindor to give up so easily.  _

 

_ Hermione winced again. Her injury was a lot worse than he had thought. “Do it, Malfoy!” _

 

_ Sweat broke from his brows, as he found himself at a crossroad. Below him were Order Members fighting to stay alive, while before him was a classmate - one he loathed from the minute she opened her mouth - bleeding and begging to be killed. It should've been easy to finish her off, but somehow he couldn't manage to do it.  _

 

_ But time was running out. Soon, he knew his uncle was going to come looking for him, his second-in-command. Without giving it much thought, he threw himself on the floor beside the brunette and with shaking hands, searched his pocket for something - a vial and one of the  Charmed Galleons that he tricked Marietta Edgecomb into giving him.  _

 

_ “Be quiet,” the blond Death Eater ordered harshly before he casted a quick healing spell on her and poured Dittany over her massive wound.  _

 

_ “What-” _

 

_ “Don't, Granger,” he silenced her. “Think of where you should be… now!”  _

 

_ The Gryffindor, obviously shaken by what had transpired, only managed to nod blankly at him.  _

 

_ He pointed his wand at the coin she currently held in her hand. “Portus!” _

 

_ Draco watched as Hermione was sucked into the coin and vanished completely. Quickly, he cast an Inciendo on a tapestry that had fallen to the ground. It turned into ashes just as he heard footsteps behind him.  _

 

_ “What of the mudblood, Draco?” _

 

_ “The mudblood is dead,” the young Malfoy replied coldly before facing his uncle. “Here's her wand. If we're done, I'll meet you back at the manor. I feel quite filthy having to fight with a lowly witch.” _

 

_ Rodolphus smirked as he handed the wand back to Draco. He saw no need to keep the witch’s wand as a souvenir. “Well done, Draco. I'll see you back at the Manor.” _

 

_ As soon as Draco Apparated into his bedroom at the Manor, he collapsed on his bed. He played the scene in his head over and over.  _

 

_ ‘What just happened?’ he asked himself, as he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t supposed to help her. Merlin, he abhorred her very existence; yet, he couldn’t find it in his heart to kill her.  _

 

_ Perhaps he just repaid her kindness in Sixth Year, he rationalized. With Rodolphus and the rest of the Death Eaters thinking she’s been disposed of, he really didn’t need to worry about her safety anymore.  _

 

_ Or so he thought.  _

 

***

 

“Dad! Daaaaaaddd!” 

 

A girl screaming and waving frantically at him from the garden shook him out of his thoughts. He smiled. Cassiopeia Jean Granger Malfoy jumped up and down to get his attention, looking more like the five-year-old girl who used to run around the garden. Draco beamed at his daughter, who looked like him, but had her mother’s eyes and temperament. 

 

“Doesn’t the garden look amazing, Dad?” she called out, as she gestured towards the garden which now looked healthier and more colorful. “Hey! Scorpius!”

 

Draco watched his daughter chase after twenty-two year old Scorpius Draco Granger Malfoy, who purposely charmed the sprinkler to hit his baby sister. The two blond siblings laughed and took turns charming the sprinkler just like they had done as kids. He sighed at the bittersweet memory of watching his two children playing while their Nana Cissy and Papa Lucius watched them from the patio while having their afternoon tea. His wife would usually stand beside him at the balcony, watching their children with him until she’d decided they had enough playtime for the day. The bushy-haired brunette would then leave for the garden and call on their children. 

 

“Scorp! Cassie!”

 

Draco sighed. “Yes, just like that,” he said to himself as he watched the garden in anticipation. A few seconds later, he caught sight of the woman he once called his wife making her way towards their two grown children. She wore a crisp white shirt tucked in a pair of camel capri pants. Her usually messy brown hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail. The blond business mogul smirked, Hermione was always a smart dresser. 

 

“Honestly, kids,” she said conjuring two towels and helping both her children to dry up. “You would think you’d start acting like adults by now, especially you, Scorp.”

 

“Ah, but Mum, we haven’t done this in a while,” Scorpius whined. 

 

“And if you keep this up, you’ll be sneezing your way to the altar this afternoon,” Hermione said, while Cassie giggled. She then turned to her daughter, who also had a towel draped over her shoulders. “That includes you, Cassiopeia Jean.”

 

“Live a little, Mum,” Scorpius chimed in, teasing his usually firm mother. 

 

Hermione sighed, and held her son’s face with both her hands. “Oh Scorp,” she said planting a kiss on her son’s forehead. “Are you really getting married today? You still act like a kid to me.”

 

“Oh, but we’ll always be your little kids,” Cassie said, giving her brother a wink. 

 

“Cassie’s right, Mum,” the tall blond former Slytherin Quidditch Team Captain and Head Boy said, as he inched closer to their mom. 

 

Draco watched his two children in awe. Having grown up mostly in the Manor, Scorpius and Cassie rarely showed this side of their personalities except when their mother was around. He noticed something dubious about the two children. He smirked, these two Slytherins were up to something, and he just had to find out what. No sooner than he’d noticed, he heard Hermione scream. 

 

“Scorpius Draco and Cassiopeia Jean!”

 

The two doubled up in laughter, as they held onto their mother tightly. “But Mum,” Cassie said, “We just wanted to show you how much we love you.”

 

Draco laughed. Seeing the three adults all wet in the garden was a sight to behold. Who better to put one up on the brightest witch of her age than her two offsprings themselves. 

 

“Oh, good morning, Draco,” Hermione greeted, while she casted a drying spell on herself. If she had a choice, she’d rather do things the Muggle way; however, things were a lot different now and she didn’t really want her ex-husband to see her looking like a drowned puppy. “How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Dad’s been there even before you scolded us,” Cassie said, casually as her mom cast a drying spell on her first before doing the same with Scorpius. 

 

“I see,” the forty-two year old Ministry official nodded at her daughter. “Well, why don’t you join us for breakfast then?”

 

Both Scorpius and Cassie looked at him, their eyes pleading. Draco took a sharp intake of breath. Since their divorce, he and Hermione could barely spend an hour without criminal intent crossing their minds. Scorpius approached him several times over the past two months asking him to make an effort to be cordial with Hermione. Cassie did the same, and made him promise over dinner last night, to bite his tongue. 

Draco nodded at his children to assure them that he meant to keep his word. His gaze moved to their mother, who was also looking at him curiously. 

 

“I’ll get dressed and join you at the formal dining,” he responded. Just as the forty-one-year-old President and CEO of Malfoy Enterprises started to make his way back inside his room, he heard Hermione call something out. He turned around and raised his eyebrows sheepishly. 

 

“I said we’re having breakfast at the patio,” his ex-wife called out again, breaking into the first smile he’d seen on her in over decade. Draco blinked a few more times, nodded back dumbly at Hermione before he made his way back to his room. 

 

Draco took a shower, dressed and made his way to have breakfast with his children and their mother. He heard the two ladies laughing at something Scorpius had said, and he suddenly felt his heart beat faster. Suddenly, all sorts of thoughts crossed his mind - what if he says something that would upset his ex-wife, or what if she says something that would upset him? 

 

“What’s the matter, Son? Lost your touch?”

 

The dashing blond nearly jumped in surprise. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice his mother’s portrait staring at him curiously. The elegant Narcissa Malfoy snickered, and he rolled his eyes in dismay. This was just what he needed - his mother’s portrait teasing him. 

 

“Good morning, Mother.”

 

The elegant Narcissa Malfoy’s portrait smiled at him. “Such a beautiful day, isn’t it Draco?” 

 

“Mother, please don’t,” he said.

The beautiful blonde smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “Why Draco, I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, feigning innocence. “I was just a little concerned because you seem a little… jumpy today. Is it because of… hmmm… a certain Muggle-born?”

 

Draco groaned silently. Trust his mother to pressure him even more with her excitement. He knew that she was deeply saddened when Hermione left the Manor, but kept whatever opinions she had to herself until her death. Her portrait however, was a different story. 

 

“Mother, now is not the time-”

 

“Take a chance, my son. What have you got to lose?”

 

He was about to respond when he heard the patio door open. In came his ever charming daughter, her eyes twinkling, just like her grandmother’s had a few minutes ago. 

 

“Dad! There you are! Hurry up and join us!” 

 

Draco sighed. Yes, this was going to be a long day indeed. 


	2. Chapter 2

9:00am

 

Draco sat across Hermione at breakfast in the Manor’s patio. As he watched her talk to their children animatedly, he realized two things - he hadn't seen Scorpius and Cassie so relaxed, and that he hadn’t been out here in awhile… A very long while, at that.  

 

When Hermione left the Manor following their divorce, Draco took it upon himself to join his mother for high tea whenever his ex-wife couldn't visit. At the patio, his mother would just sit with him and watch the garden in silence. He knew that there were many questions the older Malfoy had wanted to ask, but she never did, opting instead to keep the peace. Draco knew however, that the Malfoy matriarch often broke down whenever Hermione came to visit. When his mother passed away ten years ago, it was also the spirited Gryffindor Princess who went out of her way to make sure that his father and the children were alright. Yes, there was something odd yet comforting about his ex-wife’s presence in the room. Hermione had an uncanny way of making things brighter - it was like she knew exactly what to say or do in any situation.

 

***

 

_The war dragged on longer than expected. Draco woke up more exhausted each day. He was tired of his routine, of senseless killing, of friends dying, and of living in fear.  He went through the day just like he’d always done - led a mission, captured hostages, killed if necessary, and went back to the Manor to report what he’d done. The youngest Malfoy usually retired to his room early and no one questioned his affairs, not even his family. He Apparated to his safehouse - a small, run-down woodcutter's cottage in the middle of the Forest of Dean. He dragged on his cigarette while he fished his Charmed Galleon from his pocket. Pointing his wand at the magical coin, he sent her a message saying that he had lowered the wards. Now, all he had to do was wait, and his thoughts drifted to a week ago when he decided he’d had enough of this senseless war._

 

_It has been three months since their encounter in the Order's hideout, but not a day went by that he hadn't thought about the brave Muggle-born. Rumors about her death spread throughout Britain and the details have been blown out of proportion so much that he himself started questioning whether or not she was alive. When Thorfinn Rowle told his grotesque version of her death over a few drinks with some Death Eaters, Draco felt his head spin. At the privacy of his chambers, the grey-eyed Slytherin frantically searched his coats for the other Charmed Galleon the Ravenclaw student gave him before he left Hogwarts. After scouring his entire closet, he finally found what he was looking for. He wiped the beads of sweat across his forehead and sighed. He could only hope that she still had the Galleon he gave when he Portkeyed her out of the building._

 

_The wards of his safehouse shifted and jolted him back to the present. A few seconds later, he heard a familiar crack in the room, informing him that his guest had arrived._

 

_“Malfoy.”_

 

_“Granger,” he said, as he studied the young woman standing in front of him. It did not escape his notice that she had lost weight significantly, and that her eyes looked tired. He really couldn’t blame her; the war did that to all of them. “I was expecting your friends would tag along.”_

 

_“Why, so they can kill you?” she brazenly responded._

 

_Draco smirked. He has to give her credit for her bravery. “Have a seat, Granger.”_

 

_“No thank you. I’d rather stand,” she said squarely. “So tell me why you wanted to meet.”_

 

_The dashing blond raised an eyebrow at her, and mentally counted to ten. Yes, her impatience was one of the reasons he didn’t like her very much; but he was willing to overlook that for the time being. There were more important things he had to tell her._

 

_“Trust me,” he said, as he Accio-ed several rolls of parchment and placed them on the table. “You’ll want to sit down for this.”_

 

_The frizzy-haired brunette sighed, pulled the chair across from him, and sat. She watched quietly as he unrolled one of the parchments. “Is that -”_

 

_“Malfoy Manor’s blueprint, yes,” he finished casually, as he took out his wand and pointed it at the parchment and casted a Revelio. Immediately, the parchment revealed the names of the people who were presently in the Manor and which room they were at. She gasped, evidently amazed. “See, Potter’s not the only one with a fancy map.”_

 

_Hermione rolled her eyes. “For crying out loud!”_

 

_Draco winked, and pointed at the dungeon. “This is where the Order Members that The Dark Lord thinks are important are currently held,” he told her. “It’s best to break in from the East wing because most of them stay at the -”_

 

_“Why are you telling me this?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. When he shrugged, and went on with his explanation, Hermione grabbed his arm to get his attention. “Malfoy, how do I know this isn’t a trap?”_

 

_“You don’t, Granger,” he said smugly. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”_

 

_“Trust you?” she laughed heartily. “Malfoy, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a very long time.”_

 

_Draco huffed, and waited patiently for the willowy young witch to calm down._

 

_“I'm sorry. It's just highly suspicious of you to-”_

 

_“To what, help you out? Geez woman, you're worse than I thought!”_

 

_“We weren't exactly friends back in Hogwarts. You've always called me Mudblood, and you made fun of my friends and I a lot, if you recall. Surely you can't blame me for doubting your sincerity,”  she said, as she started to rise from her seat. “If there is nothing else, Malfoy-”_

 

_“Granger, please,” he pleaded, and reached out to grasp her arm the same way she did earlier. Draco stared into the Gryffindor’s brown eyes, which were full of fear, exhaustion and doubt. He really couldn’t blame her for not wanting to trust him; still, he wished she’d give him a chance. The silence between them was deafening, and the air had become so thick, he had a hard time breathing._

 

_“What are the other parchments for?”_

 

_He sighed in relief, and slowly loosened his grip on her frail arm. “Those are the plans for the raids my Aunt and Uncle are leading, they left them with me to study. Take them, Granger,” Draco offered, handing her the rolls of parchment._

 

_“Why are you doing this? Surely, you want something in return,” Hermione asked._

 

_“I just ask that you spare my parents,” Draco responded quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. “They’re not the best people in the world, but they’re all I’ve got.”_

 

_Hermione looked at the rolls of parchment in her hands, and sighed. “I will talk to Harry and the rest of the Order, but I will not make any promises to you that I can’t live up to. We all do what we must to stay alive, Malfoy.”_

 

_“Understood,” he nodded,  “Just remember the wards of the Manor are down from ten in the evening until midnight. Unless you’re a Malfoy, I suggest you plan your raid around those hours. Good luck, Granger.”_

 

_With that, the lithe young woman he used to detest gave him a short nod, and Apparated out of his safehouse._

 

 ***

 

“Uncle Blaise, you made it!”

 

“Hey, hey, Pumpkin! I wouldn’t miss my godson’s wedding for the world,” a cool baritone voice resounded behind the screen door leading to the patio.  

 

Draco watched as the children stood and greeted their uncle. He and the dusky Italian lothario go way. They went to Hogwarts and were both sorted into Slytherin, but didn’t become friends until Fifth Year when Draco found Greg and Vincent’s company too dull. They became two of Hogwarts’ most notorious heartbreakers and kept score of each other’s conquests. During the war, Blaise escaped to Italy but managed to send Draco letters to check on his friend. He was the only one who knew about Draco’s plans, and was the only one who supported his decisions. Yes, Draco thought of how lucky he was to have such a loyal friend…

 

At least until five minutes ago before said friend started eyeing his ex-wife.

 

“And who is this vision in white?” the suave and sexy Italian cooed, making Hermione blush to Draco’s disbelief.

 

“Blaise, how have you been? Did you just arrive from Paris?” Hermione asked cheerily, as she rose from her seat to welcome their guest.

 

“Tuscany, actually,” Blaise said, as he gave the brunette a buzz on the cheek. “Hermione, you’re looking more beautiful each time I see you.”

“Oh,” Draco said finally. “I take it you see each other frequently?”

 

Hermione gasped, her eyes widened. “Of course not. Was there something you were trying to imply, Draco?”

 

“Oh look at the time, Mum! We should really start on the flower arrangements,” Cassie jumped in immediately, pulling her Mum up from where she was seated. “You know what they say, it’s better to start early…”

 

“Always a good thing to do, Cass,” Scorpius seconded, as he watched the two ladies disappear into the garden. When his mother and sister were out of earshot, the handsome young blond looked at his father. “Really, Dad? I ask for a few hours of civility, and you couldn’t handle it? Mum was trying - she was being very nice to you!”

 

“Scorpius,” Blaise interjected, patting the young man’s shoulder. “Go and help your mum or take a shower or I don’t know, do something. I’ll talk to your dad.”

 

Blaise waited as the young man - a spitting image of his father - rolled his eyes, shook his head and left them to themselves. He then turned to his oldest friend, who had Accio-ed a bottle of Firewhiskey that he kept in the bar.

 

“So, do you mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked Draco. The handsome blond shrugged and added Firewhiskey into his cup of coffee. Blaise frowned. His best friend was being a stubborn arse again. “You know you’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

 

“I was hoping I would,” Draco murmured before he took a sip off his coffee.

 

“Well, tough luck,” Blaise retorted. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist this morning?”

 

“Nothing,” he muttered.

 

“Oh! That show you put on earlier didn’t seem like ‘Nothing’ to me,” Blaise said, putting on his best Draco impersonation. “Was it because I was being friendly with your wife?”

 

“Ex-wife, Blaise. Don’t forget the EX! And you weren’t being friendly,” Draco said, while his friend almost heaved a sigh of relief. “You were being too friendly.”

 

“Oh, this is an interesting development. And here, I thought you were over her,” the forty-two-year-old Ladies Man said thoughtfully. “Don’t worry, Draco, she’s like a sister to me.”

 

The blond raised his eyebrow, “You fucked your sister, Zabini!”

 

“Half-sister,” Blaise said, while spreading jam on his toast. “And in my defense, I had no idea we were related. Alright. If it makes you feel any better, I see her as one of my friends mothers.”

 

“Oooh, does the name Antoinette Nott ring a bell? Remember her, Theo’s mum?”

 

“So maybe I’m not the best example of self-control, but I promise you I won’t ever try to get into your wife’s knickers.”

 

“EX-wife!”

 

“You know, for a forty-one-year-old, you’re pretty stubborn, Mate,” Blaise said, chewing on his toast. “Why don’t you, for once, admit you want her back?”

 

“Because I don’t.”

 

“You don’t… know how to tell her?”

 

“Blaise, just stop,” Draco dismissed. “Firewhiskey?”

“Whatever you say, Malfoy,” Blaise replied, and added Firewhiskey into his cup of coffee the same way his friend did. “So, do I get to help the ladies with the flower arrangements?”

 

“No! You and I are gonna work on the tent and tables,” Draco answered coolly, waiting for his friend’s reaction. “Tough luck, Zabini.”

 

“Well, bros over... dainty toes,” Blaise said, downing the contents of his cup.

 

Draco sipped on his cup of coffee, while contemplating on what his best friend had just said. He hated that Blaise called things out before he’d even gotten around to think about it. What if he was right, the father of the groom thought. What if he did want her back?

 

Damn it, he silently cursed. Could this day get any longer?

 


	3. Chapter 3

11:00am

 

“Mum, look! It’s perfect!”

 

Hermione wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and smiled at the girls, who were just as sweaty as her. Sometime in the last two hours, Cassie's best friends Rose Weasley and Sandra Nott arrived to help decorate the Manor. The Gryffindor Princess had her way, she would've hired a professional decorator, but her daughter was keen on giving her brother's wedding a personal touch. 

 

The svelte brunette took several steps back to look at their handwork and couldn't be prouder - the tented venue looked amazing. The white drapes that Cassie and the girls hung in the ceiling complemented the vintage outdoor chandelier that Narcissa loved so much. The tables were covered with white tablecloth, and on the center were vases filled with blush and lavender roses in Mercury glass vessels. The Tiffany chairs had cascading green garlands hanging at the back, each tied with a blush colored bow. Yes, she must admit, they did splendidly. 

 

Hermione’s eyes landed on a bouquet of lavender roses on one of the tables, labeled ‘To Mum’. She walked over to the beautiful bundle of flowers, and picked up the card that read: ‘To Mum, Always your little boy, Scorpius.’

 

“Oh, you saw it!” Cassie said, as she crept up Hermione from behind. “Do you like it? Dad said these are your favorite flowers.”

 

Hermione smiled at her daughter, who gave her a peck on the cheek before skipped back to her friends. The former Lady Malfoy felt an oddly familiar tug on her heartstring. She sighed and scolded herself because she knew it had nothing to do with the card her son wrote for her. 

  
  


***

 

_ She Apparated into his safehouse at ten in the evening, as she had done for the past six weeks. Since the successful rescue of the Order members imprisoned at the Malfoy Manor, Hermione was tasked to liaise between the young Death Eater and the Order. What started as a weekly meeting meant to inform the Order of death Eater agenda became a twice a week visit. The unusual pair struck an easy friendship - the fiery Gryffindor gave him purpose, while the evasive Slytherin reignited her passion. Hermione enjoyed their conversations and their often heated discussion so much,  it wasn't a surprise that she left the security that Number 12 Grimmauld Place provided for the company a certain blond provided.  _

 

_ She appeared in the living room of the small, dimly-lit cabin, and scanned the place for Draco. That's odd, Hermione thought. Except for a blanket that was carelessly strewn across the couch, the house looked rather empty. She was about to Apparate out of the cabin when she heard the floorboards creak.  _

 

_ “Draco, is that you?” _

 

_ Hermione felt her heart hammering against her chest. Standing a few steps away from her, mirroring the same shocked expression, was a very pregnant Pansy Parkinson.  _

 

_ “Granger,” the dark-haired Slytherin gasped, as she placed a protective hand over her swollen belly.  _

 

_ Hermione froze. For the first time in her life, she was lost for words. Her heart was still pounding like she had just ran a marathon, her throat felt as though there was a giant lump stuck in it and her head was starting to spin. Suddenly, the willowy brunette had at least a hundred questions in her head - was that Draco's baby? How far along was she? Did he fail to mention that he was about to have a baby? Was he even planning to tell me? Why do I even care about that arrogant and obnoxious ferret?  _

 

_ “Granger.” _

 

_ Hermione flinched at the sound of her name as it rolled off easily from the lips of the very person she had thought not to care about. The young Order member scolded herself for not keeping it together. He's nothing to you, she reminded herself. He's just someone you get information from. Nothing more.  _

 

_ Or was he?  _

 

_ Over the weeks she has spent time with the young Death Eater, Hermione couldn't deny that she rather enjoyed his company. Unlike most of the people at Grimmauld whom she interacted with, Draco was sharp and witty - always quick to keep up with her barbs. He was quite easy on the eyes too. Her mind drifted back to that incident two weeks ago when she Apparated and saw him shirtless while he tended his wound. The dashing blond must've thought her silly for staring at him like it was the first time she'd ever seen anyone shirtless, and he must've been amused as she blushed the entire time she tended to him upon his prodding.  _

 

_ “Granger, is there anything wrong?” _

 

_ “Wha - Oh, oh… I just thought I'd drop in to ask if you had any more leads to provide,” Hermione responded as calm as her throbbing heart allowed.  _

 

_ Draco kept his eyes on her as he tilted his head a little to the side like he were trying to read through her thoughts. Truth be told, she was the most difficult person to read. The brilliant Muggle-born was stubborn and complicated, and she put a lot of effort in making herself so. He sighed, wishing he knew what was going through her head.  _

 

_ “Well, seeing as you have no new leads and you are currently occupied, I'll just head back to-” _

 

_ “Granger -” Draco took a step forward to stop her. He managed to grab her hand and yank her towards him until she was standing so close, he could hear her heartbeat. _

 

_ Pansy Parkinson watched curiously as her oldest friend and their Muggle-born classmate danced around each other during the past ten minutes. If she wasn’t in desperate need of Draco’s protection, she would’ve acted the part of the scorned lover; however, she didn’t want to risk being thrown out. Her father was out to kill her for getting pregnant out of wedlock and bringing shame to their family.  _

 

_ “Uh, I’m feeling a bit tired. I’ll go in and rest. Don’t mind me.” the petite Pureblood princess said, interrupting the awkward silence between them.  _

 

_ Draco watched as his friend made her way back to the makeshift bedroom beyond the partition. He was unaware that he was still holding Hermione’s hand until she tugged it away.  _

 

_ “Granger,” he said, as the headstrong Gryffindor started to move away. “Listen to me, please. I’m not…”  _

 

_ Hermione stopped, her back facing him. She wanted to get out, she had no business Apparating to his safehouse anyway. She knew that she was going to regret not leaving sooner, but part of her didn't want to leave without hearing him out.  _

 

_ Draco felt a wave of relief wash over him when she stopped on her tracks. This was his chance, he thought. He had been at war with himself over the last six weeks - a part of him wanted to admit that he felt something more than friendship for the spirited Gryffindor; but another part _

 

_ He approached the brown-eyed angel cautiously, making sure she doesn’t disappear on him. Draco felt his heart beating faster with each step he took. With shaking hands, he reached out to the lady who still had her back to him and held both of her hands. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, but he couldn’t possibly back away now.  _

 

_ “Granger, I’m not Pansy’s lover,” he whispered as his lips glossed over the sensitive part of her ear. Her felt her shiver. “I’m not even sure if you’re interested, I just felt you had to know.” _

 

_ “I was a bit curious,” she said quietly. “I mean, she’s pregnant and she’s here -” _

 

_ “Her father would turn her over to the Dark Lord if he finds her. I had to do something,” he told her as he slowly moved his hands up and down her arms. “She's my friend.” _

 

_ Hermione wiggled off from his grasp and faced him. “Who would've thought the great Draco Malfoy would go to great lengths to save a friend?” she teased.  _

 

_ Draco heaved a sigh of relief. The worse was over, he thought. He had her smiling again. “Well at least I manage to surprise people,” he retorted. “Unlike some people I know…” _

 

_ Without giving it a second thought, the willowy brunette stood on the tips of her toes, closed her eyes and pulled him closer until her lips met his. She started out slowly, moving her lips tentatively against his. When the initial shock wore out, Draco began to participate more enthusiastically in this kiss, slanting his mouth over hers while he backed her up slowly until her back hit the wall. A moan escaped her lips and he used that chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue plunged into her sweet mouth. Hermione gasped but tried to keep up with the Slytherin prince. His hands moved up and down her sides, cupping her small breasts, tracing the curve of her waist, and holding her hips to move in sync with his.  _

 

_ Hermione moaned in pleasure as he ground his hips against hers. It was as if Draco had ignited a fire within her. She had no idea how long they'd been kissing, but she knew she didn't want it to end.  _

 

_ “Keep it down, lovebirds! Pregnant woman trying to sleep in peace!” _

 

_ The two broke apart when Pansy screamed, and tried to catch their breath. Draco gently ran his fingers through Gryffindor Princess’s disheveled hair, satisfied that she looked properly kissed.  _

 

_ “I… Well, I have to go,” Hermione said, shyly. She was positive her face had turned a bright shade of red.  _

 

_ He nodded and leaned in to capture her lips one more time in a short and tender kiss. “Good night, Granger,” he winked.  _

 

_ She Apparated out of the safehouse and into the privacy of her small bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Shortly after she collapsed on her bed, she heard a familiar crack in her room. Malfoy's House Elf Trippy arrived, presenting her a single lavender rose. From Master Draco, the elf said. Hermione laid the rose on top of her pillow and for the first time in weeks, slept with a smile on her face.  _

  
  


_ *** _

 

“I wonder what chapter of Fifty Shades of Draco Malfoy is playing in your mum’s pretty little head?”

 

The sound of Cassie and her friends giggling made Hermione blush. That scandalous comment could only come from one person - the only one who dared and lived to tell about it. She looked at the girls wryly. Yes, the answer was right there wearing an expensive linen dress in white. 

 

“Alright girls, that's enough small talk. Go to your room and get ready. Lots to do today, now shoo!” Pansy rounded up Cassie’s squad and chased them into the manor like she used to when they were they were five years old. When the giggling girls had gone to Cassie’s room, the dark-haired Slytherin faced Hermione with a mischievous smile across her face. 

 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

 

“Mind telling me what you were fantasizing about earlier?” 

 

“Pans!” Hermione cried out incredulously. Since the day she encountered Pansy in Draco’s safehouse, the brilliant Gryffindor and the posh Pureblood became very good friends. Pansy was one of the few she trusted with the details of her tumultuous relationship with Draco. 

 

“Don't you ‘ _ Pans _ ’ me,  _ Missy _ ! I wasn't the one daydreaming in the garden,” the dark-haired beauty teased, as she lit a cigarette. “Now, tell  _ Aunty  _ Pansy what you were dreaming about. Did it have anything to do with cuffs, a whip and a blond hottie?”

 

The former Mrs. Malfoy looked at her friend as if she’d lost her mind. “I don’t know why you’re forcing the issue, Pans. We’ve been divorced for nearly fifteen years -”

 

“Has it been fifteen years?” Pansy chimed in casually.

 

“- He’s remarried -”

 

“And divorced again,” the Pureblood socialite shrugged, as she puffed on her cigarette.

 

“I’ve remarried -”

 

“And are now widowed…” Pansy successfully pointed out again. 

 

Hermione sighed. “What are you doing, Pans? You’ve been at this since Scorp announced his engagement. And where is my godson? He is coming to the wedding, right?”

 

Pansy Accio-ed a bottle of Firewhiskey a glass. She carefully uncorked the bottle and poured a finger of the amber liquid into a glass with ice. The feisty brunette rolled her eyes as she watched her friend prepare a drink while ignoring her question.

 

“Pansy…”

 

“Yes, yes, Chuck and his father are attending the wedding. Anyway, I’m doing this because I just feel like you’ve both danced around each other for far too long,” Pansy said as she took a sip off her glass before offering it to Hermione. “I still think you make a beautiful couple.”

 

“We did, Pans, and we have two beautiful children to prove that,” Hermione said after she’d taken a shot. “But that was before. You’ve seen how bad our fights were, and we still tend to argue when we see each other. This - The divorce, this was all for the better.”

 

Pansy sighed. Hermione was practically the most stubborn woman she’d ever encountered. “Very well,” she said in resignation. “But you can’t deny Draco looks hotter now that he’s older.”

 

The svelte and sophisticated ex-Lady of the Manor chuckled, took the glass from her friend, and murmured sadly, “He will always be drop dead gorgeous, Pans.”

 

Hermione looked at her watch. It was only noon, she groaned inwardly. How she wished for this day to come to an end. 

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

1:00pm

 

Hermione and Pansy walked down the quiet halls of the East Wing of the Manor after they had lunch at the sun room. Not a lot has changed since she’d moved out of the Manor  - the paintings of the Malfoy ancestors still hung on the wall leading to the grand staircase, one of the plush carpets she and Draco purchased during their last trip to Agra was still in excellent condition. The large picture windows were still beautifully framed with sage-colored drapes, the shade she loved best. 

 

“My word! Is that Hermione?”

 

Hermione paused at the sound of Brutus Malfoy’s voice. Soon, all the portraits opened their eyes and started talking. 

 

“Hello, Brutus,” the comely brunette greeted. “Hello, Catherine, Septimus, Margaret.”

“You look as beautiful as the first time we saw you… Well, maybe the second time,” Margaret’s portrait corrected immediately, blushing. “The first time was, well, not a very good time for all of us.”

 

Hermione smiled and nodded, as she recalled how the once-stuck up portraits had no choice but to watch Voldemort and his Death Eaters desecrate the Manor when Bellatrix Lestrange offered the property for the Dark Lord to use.  

  
  


***

  
  


_ “Draco, your father is calling for you.” _

 

_ Draco looked at the portrait of his grandfather Abraxas, which hung in the West Wing study he was currently occupying. He raised his eyebrows at his late grandfather, as if to get some context around why he was being called.  _

 

_ The elder Malfoy simply shrugged. “I really don’t know, my boy. He said something about identifying the three people those henchmen just brought in.” _

 

_ The young Death Eater felt his heart beat faster. ‘Three people,’ he thought. There was a huge possibility that one of them could be… _

 

_ “Grandfather, do they happen to be two boys and a girl?” the youngest Malfoy inquired.  _

 

_ “So you know them?” his grandfather asked. When the dashing young man didn’t respond, Abraxas frowned. “Draco?” _

 

_ Draco felt like his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t speak, neither could he move. He simply felt like his world was about to crash.  _

 

_ “Draco,” another portrait spoke. “Lucius is getting impatient. What is the matter?” _

 

_ “I have to get her out of here, Grandfather,” the youngest Malfoy cried out.  _

 

_ The two portraits looked at each other. “The girl? You know her.” _

 

_ “I’m in love her,” he responded, silencing his two ancestors.  _

 

_ “Your father said she’s a Mud-” _

 

_ Draco marched up to Septimus’s portrait with his wand pointed at him, not minding that the person in it suddenly looked as pale as a ghost. “Don’t even say it!” _

 

_ “Now, now, Grandson,” Abraxas pleaded. “Let’s not lose our head over this.” _

 

_ Septimus regained his composure and shrugged. “Draco, I must remind you that we are a Pureblood family. We do not associate with -” _

 

_ “Then the Malfoy line ends with me,” the determined eighteen-year-old responded.  _

 

_ Septimus narrowed his eyes at his great grandson. He was by far the most stubborn Malfoy he’d ever come across. He knew he should’ve said something against Lucius marrying a Black. A few moments later, he sighed and looked at his son. “Tell the others, Abraxas. This is a matter the family needs to decide on.” _

 

_ Ten minutes later, Draco walked in the west wing’s drawing room, his face marred with uncertainty. His mother met him as soon as he entered the dark and dreary room, which Voldemort used to meet with his Death Eaters - the same room he fed Nagini with any unfortunate prisoner he fancied.  _

 

_ “Draco,” his father called, summoning him closer. He nodded at his mother and took a few measured steps towards the men. As he approached, he felt that his worst fear was starting to materialize.  _

 

_ The first captive he saw was Potter, who looked like he either had a bad case of allergy or was badly beaten. He wasn’t struggling, but Scabior held him like his life depended on it. Draco’s gaze drifted to the gangly redhead who was struggling as he was held by another Snatcher. His heart beat faster when he moved his gaze a little more to the left where Fenrir Greyback stood, and there with her head lowered, was Hermione. The youngest Malfoy felt his breath hitch. He reminded himself to stay calm. ‘Don’t give yourself away,’ he recalled Septimus tell him before he left the study.  _

 

_ “My son, we suspect that they are classmates of yours at Hogwarts,” Lucius said, “If Harry Potter is one of them, then surely you know that the Dark Lord will reward us greatly.” _

 

_ “Go on, Draco. Look at him closely,” Rodolphus Lestrange urged. “Tell us - is that Harry Potter?” _

 

_ Draco stole a quick glance at the Muggle-born witch, who now looked back at him with fear in her eyes. He looked away almost immediately and looked at the swollen face of his school nemesis.  _

 

_ “Well?”  _

 

_ “I can’t tell,” Draco said reluctantly, glancing back at his father. “What’s wrong with his face?” _

 

_ “Yes, what’s wrong with his face?” the older Malfoy asked Scabior.  _

 

_ “I don’t know. We found him in the Forest like that. He must’ve ran into something over there,” the notorious leader of the Snatchers said.  _

 

_ “Or he could’ve ran into a stinging jinx.” _

 

_ Draco’s head snapped to the direction where the voice came from. He felt his heart pound. This wasn’t part of the plan, he thought. His bitch of an aunt shouldn’t have returned so soon.  _

 

_ “Bellatrix -” _

 

_ “The Dark Lord requires your presence, Scabior, Fenrir. Husband,” the crazed witch said sweetly to Rodolphus. “Do you mind taking them to the Dark Lord? I would like to make sure they don’t run off with anything from the Manor.” _

 

_ Rodolphus nodded at his wife and cast an Incarcerous at the captives. When they were securely bound by ropes, the senior Death Eater led the group of Snatchers out of the room. Draco moved a few steps away from Hermione, and stood beside his mother.  _

 

_ “Was it you, deary?” Bellatrix said, as she strode inside the drawing room and head over to Hermione. The Muggle-born shook her head. “Give me your wand!” _

 

_ The young Death Eater watched as his aunt grabbed his girlfriend’s wand to check for the last spell she casted. He flinched and silently hoped it was anything but… _

 

_ “Ha! I caught you!” his deranged aunt happily cried out. She ran a finger down the side of the young girl’s cheek. “It’s bad to lie, deary. Did your parents not teach you that?” _

 

_ Draco watched as his aunt continued to taunt Hermione while Harry and Ron squirmed in their places, attempting to break free from their bindings. The young Death Eater clutched his wand when his aunt carved an M on her skin. Immediately, Armand Malfoy’s portrait made grunted and Bellatrix stopped.  _

 

_ His aunt took a few steps away from Hermione, while she tapped her wand on her hand as if contemplating what to do. A few seconds later, she cackled and screamed, “Crucio!” _

 

_ Draco heard the most unbearable sound he’d heard in his life and saw that his beautiful Muggle-born had fallen to the floor, writhing in pain while his crazed aunt laughed. She pointed her wand at the suffering Order Member again and Draco swore, he felt his knees weaken and his heart pounding loudly.  He was helpless - Bellatrix was the Dark Lord's most trusted servant, and to harm her was like wishing for death upon yourself.  _

 

_ But he had to do something, he thought. He couldn't let Hermione suffer. With trembling hands, he clutched on his wand and was about to raise it when a flash of green light flew towards the deranged witch in black, immediately ending her life. He rushed to Hermione’s side as soon as his aunt had fallen. _

 

_ “What have you done?” _

 

_ Draco turned at his parents while cradling the injured Gryffindor in his arms. It only dawned on him that he didn’t know who among them shot the curse.  _

 

_ “What else was there to do, Lucius? She has gone completely mad,” Narcissa Malfoy shook, tears streaming down her face. _

 

_ “The Dark Lord will…” Lucius paused and shook his head. There was no use trying to get away now. It was only a matter of minutes until Voldemort would be made aware of what had happened, he thought silently as he reached out to hold his wife. _

 

_ “Finite Incantatem.” _

 

_ Lucius immediately turned at his son, who had set the two other captives free. “Draco?” _

 

_ “Father, there isn’t much time,” he said. “We have to escape.” _

 

_ “And become their prisoners?” the older Malfoy asked as Harry and Ron pointed their wands at him. “They’ll kill us.” _

 

_ “We’re not the monsters you think we are,” Hermione said, as Lucius turned his gaze at the Muggle-born witch his son had been assisting.  _

 

_ “What is the meaning of this, Draco? Why are you holding that mud-” _

 

_ “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Harry warned the older man, rage evident in his eyes.  _

 

_ “If you’re done discussing, the person you fear is about to make his way here,” Armand Malfoy’s portrait spoke. “Lucius, you will do well to follow your son’s instructions.” _

 

_ “But Armand, I-” _

 

_ “Lucius, please,” Narcissa pleaded. “There isn’t much time.”  _

 

_ Lucius felt his Dark Mark sting. Voldemort was on his way. The Lord of the Manor bowed his head in resignation. Just then, the wall behind Brutus Malfoy’s portrait slid open.  _

 

_ “This leads to the caretaker’s cottage. You can Apparate out of the grounds from there,” Armand said. “We will protect the Manor. Good luck, son.” _

 

_ Lucius nodded, took his wife’s hand and looked at the rest of the party. “Follow me.” _

 

_ Draco sighed in relief before he lifted Hermione in his arms, ignoring the protests of Potter and Weasley. They were headed out of the Manor, into the safehouse or probably one of the Headquarters. The dashing blond knew that there was a great possibility he’d end up sharing a room with the two Gryffindors he detested, but that didn’t seem to bother him.  _

 

_ The wall slid back to its place as soon as the last of them entered the tunnel. Draco smiled and placed a quick kiss on Hermione’s forehead. For now, he thought, they were safe.  _

  
  


***

 

“Has Narcissa seen you yet?”

 

Before she had a chance to respond, she heard a very distinct voice inquire calling her. The comely brunette smiled and excused herself from Catherine and the other Malfoy ancestors and walked over to the portrait of the beautiful Narcissa Malfoy. 

 

“Hello, Cissy,” she greeted. 

 

“I haven’t seen you in ages, darling,” her estranged mother-in-law said, looking at Hermione like this was the first time she’d ever seen her in her life. “I trust your trip went well. It must be awfully lonely to live far away. I’m sorry to hear about Cormac, by the way. Gone too soon.”

 

The Ministry official smiled. Since they’d escaped Voldemort halfway through the war, she and Narcissa had become quite close. The older witch openly accepted her relationship with Draco and had become her confidante. The Pureblood socialite was aware of the her reasons for marrying Cormac McLaggen, while the brilliant Muggle-born pacified whenever she ranted about Draco’s now-estranged second wife, Astoria Greengrass. 

 

“You could move back to the Manor, you know,” Narcissa chimed in, eliciting an unladylike snort from Pansy. She simply nodded when the Parkinson heiress muttered an apology.

 

“That’s very generous of you, but I’m actually happy on my own,” Hermione responded.

 

Her estranged and incredibly nosy mother-in-law frowned. “Oh,” she said coolly. “And why is that? Are you seeing someone?”

 

“No, of course not, Cissy!”

 

“That’s right,” Pansy interjected. “All she does is work and go home to her cat.”

 

“Oh, then I think you’ll be more comfortable doing that here. We have lots of rooms, you know,” Narcissa joshed while Pansy nodded in agreement, to Hermione’s dismay. 

 

“Alright, I think it’s time for Pansy and I to retire to our rooms for now. We’ll have to get ready for the wedding in a few hours.”

 

Pansy watched as her best friend excused herself and walked away from them. It never failed to amaze her how easily Hermione fit into one of the most elite families in Wizarding Britain. When the brunette was out of earshot, she looked at Narcissa’s portrait and smirked, “See what I mean?”

 

“You weren’t kidding when you said she’s… annoyingly stubborn,” the beautiful Pureblood said. 

 

“So, do we call the plan off?”

 

“And allow Lucius to tell me this is what I get for forcing the issue? Of course not,” Narcissa scoffed. “It’s still rather early, Pansy. Remember, timing is everything.”

 

“Timing’s a bitch,” Pansy said. 

 

“Well then thank Merlin, so are we,” Narcissa smirked. 

 

\---

 

Hermione walked leisurely to her given room at the second floor, where she spent most of her time during her marriage to Draco. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. It seemed like it was only yesterday when she was a young bride eager to start her new life with the man she loved. 

 

She moved to the long cherry console - the same one Draco bought for her after she prodded him about needing a special place where she could put all of their framed pictures on. Hermione smiled after seeing the frames have multiplied and the table had expanded. She saw pictures of Lucius and Narcissa, Draco and the children… and then, hidden behind the handsome fortyish Malfoy's picture that seemed to enjoy winking at her, was a picture of their wedding. Hermione picked up the silver frame to get a closer look at her nineteen-year-old self, making funny faces for the camera with Draco. A few seconds later, the young groom pulled his bride for a kiss. Hermione sighed, sadly. 

 

“Lost?” 

 

Hermione gasped, obviously surprised. “No, I just picked up a frame that got knocked off by the wind,” she said. 

 

Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Really? That's very kind of you, Granger.”

 

“Actually, it's McLaggen,” she corrected, raising her eyes to meet his. She had almost forgotten how beautiful they were - like the color of the sky before a heavy downfall. She was always fascinated at how the sky had so much power over the earth when that happens. When his smirk grew wider, Hermione realized she'd been staring at him longer than she should have. She silently chastised herself and started to move away from the console. 

 

“Leaving already?” he drawled. 

 

“I'm tired and I'd like to go to my room now,” Hermione responded, looking squarely at her ex-husband. 

 

The handsome devil snickered, his eyes twinkled with mischief. “That'd be my room you're headed. Yours is that way,” he pointed. “Unless you wanted to relive the old days, in which case, I don't really mind, Granger.”

 

She must've turned five shades of red. How could she have thought of going to their old room? Clearing her throat, the feisty brunette squared her shoulders and looked at him with as much dignity as she could muster. “Thank you. And again, it's McLaggen.”

 

“Suit yourself,  **_Granger_ ** ,” He watched his estranged wife walk away, her hips swaying from side to side. It always felt good when he won one over her. When she closed the door, Draco picked up the picture she claimed had fallen off the console and felt a tug on his heartstrings as he gazed at their wedding picture. 

 

“Liar,” he teased as the picture of his nineteen-year-old bride blew him a kiss. Sighing, he placed the frame at the back of his picture and went on his way to check if Harry and his family had settled into their rooms at the West Wing. 

 

Shortly after, the second floor hallway was once again empty, except for two pairs of silver-grey eyes struggling to hold back tears that threatened to fall after what they'd witnessed. 

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you had to wait, I apologize for taking too. I'm working more diligently on the succeeding chapters so I can post them sooner.

3:00pm

 

Draco made his way back to the East Wing after exchanging pleasantries with the Weasleys and Potters and sharing a few glasses of bourbon with the father of the bride. He knew that Hermione would’ve done a better job getting the family settled since she was like family; but then, his ex-wife had already spent a good part of the morning decorating the Manor and making sure that things were in order. Yes, he thought the least he could do was to welcome his would-be extended family. 

 

As he walked to the Master's chambers, he found Scorpius's bedroom door slightly open. The father of the groom rolled his eyes. He heard Weaslette and her daughter arguing earlier about seeking out the groom. Draco sighed, his sneaky would-be daughter-in-law must've found a way to creep out of her room. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he quietly made his way to his son's open door.

 

“I feel bad about this, Uncle Blaise. I mean, I love Lily so much, but I'm quite nervous about the whole thing. I feel like I'm going to screw up.”

 

Draco stood by the door and quietly watched his son confide in his godfather. Scorpius had always  been very candid about feelings, but this was the first time he’d ever seen his son looking so distressed. 

 

“That’s just cold feet, bud. It’ll go away,” Blaise said coolly, in an attempt to soothe the young blond. 

 

“But what if I mess things up -”

 

“You won’t.”

 

“What if I end up like Mum and Dad?”

 

Draco winced like someone had punched him in the gut, he leaned by the door for support. He was aware that the children understood the reason behind the separation, but -  _ damn it all _ \- he and his ex-wife may have forgotten to ask how the children felt about it. 

 

“Being like your Mum and Dad isn’t so bad, you know.”

 

“How could you say that, Uncle Blaise? They’re divorced,” Scorpius pointed out. 

 

“For now,” Blaise winked at his godson before he rubbed his face with his hands and stretched. “You know, things weren’t always bad between your parents…”

 

“I guess. I mean, they did have us -”

 

Blaise chuckled at the young man’s explanation. “I’d say you and Cass were the byproducts. They were inseparable,” the dusky Italian said. 

 

“So they were in love?”

 

“Oh yes. Your mum was the only woman he wanted to marry,” Blaise replied, as he thought back to the day his best friend married the love of his life…

  
  


oOoOo

 

_ December 5th, 1998 _

 

_ “Are you sure about this, Mate?”  _

 

_ Blaise Zabini watched as his best friend was busy working on the tie of his muggle tuxedo, which he chose to wear on that special day.  _

 

_ “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” the blond Pureblood responded coolly as he looked at the mirror to check if his tie was in place. From the mirror, he could see the dusky ladies’ man looking at him with a weird smile etched on his face. “What?” _

 

_ “Nothing. I just never thought I’d live to see this happen,” Blaise shook his head, smirking. “I mean, it’s not like you and Granger got along great at the start. You called her a mudblood -” _

 

_ “I was an idiot,” Draco dismissed.  _

 

_ “You bullied her best friends…” _

 

_ “I was a child, Zabini!” _

 

_ “You made her life miserable -” _

 

_ “Keep that up and I’ll make sure you really don’t live to see it happen,” Draco said sharply.  _

 

_ Blaise chuckled. “You love me too much, Mate!” _

 

_ “Don’t test our friendship.” _

 

_ “I won’t, I won’t,” Blaise said, raising his hands in mock surrender.  In truth, the dusky Italian was thrilled that his best friend was marrying a good woman. He honestly couldn’t think of a better match for the stubborn blond other than the strong-willed Muggle-born.  _

 

_ “Twenty minutes more, Mate,” Blaise called out after checking his watch.    _

 

_ “Then I suppose it’s time for us to get a move on,” Draco said. “How do I look?” _

 

_ The dark-haired Slytherin looked at the groom one last time and gave him a thumbs up. “You look positively shaggable.” _

 

_ “I always thought you were gay,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Be at your best behaviour, Zabini.” _

 

_ “Aren’t I always?” _

  
  


_ The wedding was simple by Narcissa Malfoy’s standards, which meant she kept with the bride’s choice of colors and decorations. The ceremony was held in the lush rose gardens at the Malfoy’s summer home in Edinburgh, where the family lived while the Manor was being rebuilt. The Weasleys had cast strong Weather-modifying charms to make sure that Hermione had ‘the perfect Spring wedding in December’, as the Weasley matriarch called it.  _

_ The garden was decorated with a beautiful wooden chuppah with white lilies of the valley wrapped around it. There were fresh garlands on either side of the aisle, and a petal-filled carpet leading up to the altar where the couple would be wed.  _

 

_ Blaise stood beside Pansy and her husband, as they watched the Slytherin heartbreaker hold back his tears, as he spoke his vows to an emotional Hermione. _

 

_ “Hermione,  with this ring, I promise to love and honor you all the days of our lives. You have my heart, and you will carry it with you everyday and in every way. I promise you that from now on, you’ll never be alone for my heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.” _

 

_ Blaise glanced sideways at Pansy, who was sobbing uncontrollably while being consoled by her husband of six months. The sheepish look on Dean’s face made the suave Slytherin feel blessed he chose to go stag today.  _

 

_ “Draco, you are my today and all my tomorrows. I promise to be a loving wife, a supportive partner, and an understanding friend to you. I shall love and care for you and our children until my last breath.” _

 

_ He couldn’t tell who between Narcissa and Molly cried louder when the couple sealed their marriage with a kiss, but Blaise was sure he saw Lucius drying his eyes just like everyone else. As the newlyweds faced their family and friends, the handsome brown-eyed Slytherin stood and applauded the couple, beaming with pride that his best friend had married his one true love.  _

 

oOoOo

  
  


“Malfoy, what are doing?”

 

Draco quickly spun as he heard an all-too-familiar voice from behind him. Just as he suspected, a very curious Hermione Granger stood a few steps behind him, her hands on her hips. 

 

“You can see me?”

 

“You’re eavesdropping on Scorp!”

 

“I cast a Disillusionment Charm, Granger,” he hissed. 

 

“It obviously wasn’t strong enough,” she quipped, stepping closer to her ex-husband. “Why were you spying on Scorp anyway?” 

 

“I wasn’t spying,” the tall blond said indignantly. “I was merely observing. And what are you doing here, pray tell?”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. Trust Draco to change the subject quickly whenever he was caught off guard. “I’m here for my son’s wedding,” she replied curtly, pushing the dashing father of her children aside. “Now, let me see -”

 

“Scorp and Blaise are talking,” Draco supplied, saving her the trouble of squeezing in to peek at their son’s room. 

 

“Oh,” the feisty brunette said. “Do you know what they talked about?”

 

Draco was quiet for a moment, contemplating on whether to tell her the truth or not. On the one hand, he could tell her their son was merely asking for sex advice. Yes, he thought, that would make her feel awkward enough to excuse herself and go her merry way. 

 

“He told Blaise he was scared he’d screw things up and end up like us.”

 

Hermione dropped her jaw at the revelation, and he silently cursed himself at his inability to lie to her. It baffled him that, after all this time, he still couldn’t twist the truth when she was involved. No, not even a little. 

 

“I see. I can’t blame him for feeling that way because we were horrible examples,” the brilliant brunette said quietly, as she lowered her gaze. 

 

Draco quietly watched as his estranged wife struggled to articulate her thoughts. Hermione Granger she hated failure - he knew that for a fact. The infuriating woman in front of him would rather raise a dozen pointless arguments or give you the cold shoulder, than admit to a failure. 

 

Then again, he thought while he continued watching her, it has been years since they’d had a decent conversation. In the years they’d been silent, perhaps they’d both grown up a little - enough to at least deal with each other like responsible adults. 

 

“I’m pretty confident that Scorpius will turn out a lot better than us,” Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts all of a sudden. Boldly, she looked into his grey eyes and offered a weak smile. “I have to go fix myself up. Excuse me.”

 

“Granger,” he called hoarsely, as he reached out to grab her arm, causing the comely Gryffindor to gasp at the sudden physical connection. 

 

“Yes?”, Hermione whispered, feeling her heart pound against her chest. 

 

“It wasn’t all that bad.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Draco gave his ex-wife a dazzling smile, the kind that never failed to take her breath away. “You and me. We weren’t all that bad.”

 

Hermione watched her husband make his way back to the Master’s Chambers, her heart still pounding hard against her chest. The words he said played over and over in her head like a mantra. 

 

She sighed when she heard the door click, as she felt a tear roll down her face. Hermione looked longingly at her husband’s door one more time, her heart feeling heavier by the minute. 

 

“Yes, Malfoy. I suppose we weren’t all that bad,” she whispered, and made her way back to her room to prepare for tonight’s big event. 


End file.
